


Time Stands Still

by ForzaForever



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2544545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForzaForever/pseuds/ForzaForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final race of the 2013 season is here, with Mark Webber retiring from the pinnacle of motorsport. The emotions unfold through him as he realises exactly what he's giving up, and more importantly, who he's saying goodbye to. Fernando's always been there during his career and now that Mark's hanging up his boots, he breaks his own heart along the way as he decides that Fernando would be better off without him now that they can no longer see each other frequently. However, after Mark's final race with Red Bull, he has one last opportunity to celebrate with the man that he truly adores before he has to deliver the heartbreaking news that they can no longer be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Stands Still

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted for Understeers Round 03.

It was here; the final race and the final chapter of his Formula One career. Sitting alone in his room, Mark was surprised as the emotions engulfed him; happiness tinged with sadness and the inevitable goodbyes that he would have to say. His heart plummeted at the thought of goodbye; they were always permanent to him. No going back, only moving forwards. Placing his head firmly in his hands, Mark refused to get emotional, not yet anyway. He had one last race; one final chance to add another win to his tally before he hung up his Formula 1 boots forever.

Bringing his head up, the Australian was temporarily blinded by the light reflecting against the mirror. Psyching himself up, Mark gingerly began to clamber into his Red Bull race suit, paying attention to every single detail. He would miss many things, including the car and team personnel, but he wouldn't miss the racing aspect of Formula 1 anymore, although he'd miss the friends and the memories that he had picked up along the way the most; his race debut with Minardi, winning his first race in Germany in 2009, becoming close friends with Fernando and Jenson. He'd miss them two the most, not bothering to think about anyone else.

His phone buzzed violently against the gleaming white desk, capturing his attention instantaneously. Gripping the phone tightly in his palm, Fernando's name lit up against the backdrop of his 2010 Red Bull Racing car; the last feasible chance he had of winning the world championship. Swiping in his password quickly, Mark's eyes lingered on the text, wondering if he could get away with a simple lie.

'You ready for the last race?'

'I've been ready all year, mate.'

Mark pressed send, glad yet relieved that the Ferrari man wasn't in the room right now, knowing that he'd see straight through Mark's obvious lies. Sighing, his mind was plagued with different ideas; he thought it was the right time, yet, now his body was filled with fear and dread. Something Mark hardly experienced unless there was a major accident during a race. Skulking around the room, the Australian shook himself, attempting to get his head into gear before glancing into the mirror. Perhaps this is how every racing driver felt before they left this enigmatic and exciting world. The phone buzzed once again; a new text from Fernando.

'I know you're lying.'

Mark groaned loudly, flinging his phone on the bed, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught that would occur as soon as he left his room. Once a driver was retiring, the media wanted to have one final interview and that was physically exhausting; Mark preferred to just get out on track and prove his talent there, rather than be in front of a camera being constantly interviewed by everyone demanding to know the same questions; how he was feeling, what he would change, what he'd miss.

Knocking the door softly, Barbara stuck her head around the door, smiling at the Australian as he indicated for her to come in. Closing the door gently, a small tear trickled down her cheek, strolling towards Mark with her arms extended out wide, engulfing him into a hug. Peeling back, Mark's eyes glanced into her shimmering blue eyes, wiping away the tears from her cheek, dropping a chaste kiss to her temple.

"No tears today!" Mark jokingly warned her, a warm smile firm on his face. "We made a deal. We're not allowed to cry Babz."

"Okay, okay." She sighed in defeat, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry... I just can't believe it's the end."

"All good things must come to an end buddy." Mark whispered. "Come on, we need to face the world."

Barbara nodded in agreement, pulling away from the Australian's embrace, slinking out of the door, giving Mark a final few moments to take in the atmosphere of his room in the energy station. It wasn't anything lavish, just a standard single bed, a wardrobe and small drawers, matched up with deep blue walls that were often engulfed by the blinding light that seeped through the window during the different race weekends. It may not have held any significance for anyone else, but it had been his temporary home at Red Bull for the last six years.

Staring into the mirror, Mark ensured that he looked perfect before leaning over the desk, grasping his hat in his hand as he left his room to a surrounding crowd cheering and applauding him, yelling in delight as a banner proudly hung down from the energy station. Mark stood there in shock, absorbing the atmosphere, smiling at everyone and thanking them for their kindness, even if he found it somewhat unnecessary. He would still be sponsored by Red Bull and he'd appear at the occasional race, but it was time to quit whilst he still had the opportunity to. It was always easier to walk away when you could, rather than be thrown to the side-lines with no one interested in giving you a seat.

The cold air swirled around the drivers viciously as they all clutched their team gear tight to themselves, determined to stop some warmth escaping as each of them all waved to their fans surrounding the Interlagos circuit, noticing the different flags and banners that were on the grandstands and wrapped around the thousands of fans that had turned up for the final race of the season. A few of the drivers had already been interviewed during the track parade by Natalie Pinkham, with everyone thanking the fans for their continued support and that they were excited to get back home and have a small break before stepping up for the upcoming brand new season. Mark and Fernando had managed to huddle together, warm smiles etched on their faces as Natalie approached them, the microphone prepped in her hand as she glanced at them both, seeking permission before intruding their personal space and potentially hearing something that she shouldn't. Both nodded at her and she stepped toward them, with Fernando gesturing the microphone in Mark's direction instantly.

"Is his last race. He should go first."

"So then, Mark, here we are at Interlagos... it's your last race with us. How are you feeling now that you're finally here?"

Mark scratched his throat nervously, thinking of the right answer before glancing into Natalie's eyes, knowing that he couldn't lie, not anymore.

"I'm overwhelmed." Mark sighed. "It's been such a long season, but it's definitely the right time for me to retire. I've had an amazing experience racing these guys and some that are no longer with us, but it feels like it's the right time to leave and pursue something new whilst I still can."

"I hope we'll see you at some of the races..." Natalie smiled.

"You may, but it all depends on my schedule with Porsche and what we need to do. Although, I'm sure I can appear at a few races and see some old friends." Mark chuckled, nudging Fernando's shoulders. "Someone needs to make sure that this man finally gets a title winning car with Ferrari too."

"Speaking about Fernando, it must be a difficult day for you too," Natalie pondered out loud. "Not only are you losing one of your best friends on the grid, but your team mate is also leaving the team after a staggering eight seasons with the team. Just how much are you going to miss their company?"

"Well..." Fernando smiled. "With Felipe is different, I can still see him as he is only a few garages down. Mark is different because he will no longer be here every weekend to try and fight for victories with me." He smiled. "It will be weird to not see him behind me on track, but I am sure that Daniel will do a good job in his seat."

"He better!" Mark interjected. "He's the future of Australia now, and I hope that he can do something that I was never able to do and win the title while he's still young and can take on Seb."

Their eyes lingered towards the soon to be Red Bull driver with a massive grin on his face, giving Mark a thumbs up and nodded to him in respect as Natalie's attention was once again brought back to them both.

"It's nice to see that you've received such a wonderful send off from all of your friends here down the paddock, along with the numerous teams up and down the grid, Mark. That must mean something special to you, surely?"

"Of course." Mark smiled warmly, continuing to wave at the fans. "Everyone up and down the paddock has been amazing to me over the years, whether that be the highs of my career or the lows; everyone has a part to play in that paddock. But we've also got to appreciate the fans too, without them, we wouldn't have the sport that we currently do; it's their support along with my family and friends that means the world to me. So, this final race is for you guys! Enjoy it and let's finish this season on a high. Thank you all so much, it's been incredible!" Mark's grin expanded as the crowd erupted into delight at the Australian's words, cheering louder and louder as the drivers arrived back in the pitlane, everyone rushing down the stairs immediately.

"That was a nice touch, Mark; it'll be a shame to see you leave." Natalie sighed. "It's been a pleasure having the chance to know you."

"It needed to be done Nat, before I go insane. Too many things have gone on now and I need a fresh challenge in my life. Keep these guys under check for me." Mark retorted softly, grasping onto the handrails.

Their brief conversation ended there. Mark bounded down the stairs, attempting to rush into the garage for the last time before the race started, yet, was stopped by Fernando who stood in front of him, his hands resting on his hips. Mark's eyes grew with concern and bewilderment – no one could know about their relationship due to the circumstances that would ensue.

"What are you playing at?" Mark gritted out, attempting to remain calm, forcing Fernando's hands off his hips.

"Sorry." Fernando shrugged, wrapping his arms around Mark instead, not wanting to release him from his grip.  
"You have to be careful, Nando."

Fernando ignored Mark's words and ghosted his lips over his ear.

"One last race, one last chance for us to both be on the podium. I hope I'll see you there; I believe in you. Have a good race, I love you."

Mark's hands wrapped around the Spaniard immediately, warmth radiating through him at Fernando's encouraging words.

"I will do my damned best to be up there with you. We need to celebrate one last podium together." Mark whispered back, releasing Fernando from his clutches.

They nodded at one another as they departed each other's company, heading back to their retrospective garage before anyone could speculate on what could have been mentioned. As they arrived back at their garages, both drivers were asked straight away what information the other disclosed, with both of them stating that they were just wishing one another well and that they wanted to have one final hug before they would go to the grid as they both understood just how busy that would be. It was just easier to do it prior to the race preparations starting.

He watched them strolling through the grid, the herd of media all attempting to get near to Mark, demanding interviews with the driver who would soon be retired and claimed as one of the greats to never win the title. He refused to leave the garage yet, deciding on staying with the team for a bit longer as he glanced at his car; the overwhelming emotions hitting him like a tonne of bricks – he'd never drive a Formula One car again after today. This chapter of his life would be over and even though the decision was right for him, the unsettling nerves in his stomach never waned, if anything, they increased dramatically; this was the last chance to fight for a race win and to prove exactly why he deserved all of those seasons in the pinnacle of motorsport.

Pacing around the rear of the garage, Mark grasped his helmet and placed his balaclava over his head softly before his features were disguised by the helmet for the final time this season; only his hazel orbs on display. He gingerly walked towards his car, stepping in via the right hand side of the monocoque, getting comfy as he was strapped in by his crew, patting him on the shoulder and tapping his helmet; some smiling at him, some struggling to keep their emotions in check as they all know just how much they will miss the Australian's presence in the team. Mark clutched the steering wheel firmly, absorbing every detail that he could, memorising every aspect of this part of his life, cherishing every highlight and memory that he had secured with this magnificent team that had managed to dominant and astound some of the more famous teams around the paddock.

Goosebumps prickled across his arms as the engine roared to life behind him; never growing tired of hearing the scream from inside the car. The car purred beneath him, being signalled to leave the pit by a member of the team. A few tears streaked down his cheeks as he slammed his visor down, hiding the emotions well as he focused on the curves that Interlagos always managed to offer.

"We need a few more installation laps, Mark." Simon's warm and calm voice rang through his earphones.

"Okay, mate. Is there an issue with the car?" Mark inquired.

"Nope, we just want to be awkward and make you drive around the circuit a few more times."

"You're all bastards, you know that, right?"

"We prefer loving, Mark." Simon's dulcet tones echoed in his ears. "You'd think something was wrong if we weren't demanding."

"If I break down on the last lap because you've stressed my car too much..." Mark mumbled. "I will actually kill you all."

"We won't break it... we just want it to have the goodbye it deserves, so bloody win today."

"You know that I'll be boxing every step of the way!" Mark smiled, determined to appear on the podium.

The radio crackled to a slow silence, leaving Mark alone once again to focus on nailing every part of the track, remembering where to overtake and just how to execute the perfect manoeuvre. This circuit was one of the best; always an exciting race and up there with the likes of Spa-Francorchamps for its crazy weather conditions that managed to produce the craziest of races. Eventually, Mark was finally settled into his grid slot; starting second in his final race was no mean feat, but with Sebastian ahead of him once again, it would be difficult to get the race win. Cutting the engine, Mark tentatively stepped out of the car and leant against one of the metal barriers, the media beginning to crowd around the Red Bull driver as they all aimed to get their final interview with the Australian. Mark groaned inwardly, hating the attention that they were all lavishing on him; he just wanted to focus on the job at hand and end his career on a high. The copious amounts of media was beginning to annoy him more, feeling like they hardly cared when he was rising through the ranks, even if he was one of the only drivers to have the balls to tell everyone exactly how he felt, yet, sometimes, he felt like he was under-appreciated by the media in so many ways that he would never dare explain.

He allowed a few media outlets to interview him; notably the BBC and Sky F1 teams as they had always treated Mark as one of their own when he had decided to create his life in Britain and embrace the British motorsport culture; the only other place he had felt so much warmth and love for his area was Queanbeyan, which still held a special place in his heart to this day.

Martin Brundle stepped forward, the microphone in his hand, ready to quiz Mark for the last time. Martin was presented with an umbrella, just in case the rain decided to come down against the asphalt and all everyone on the grid, leaving a small smile on Mark's face as he patiently waited for the British pundit and ex-driver to begin his interrogation.

"So Mark, it's looking like it could be a wet race out there for your final Grand Prix out here in Interlagos..."

"Yeah," Mark shrugged his shoulders. "I don't mind a wet race; our car has shown excellent control in both wet and dry conditions, so we should be on the podium comfortably today."

"We heard a comical radio exchange between you and your engineer Simon Rennie a few minutes ago; it sounds like they'll all miss you at Red Bull."

"I think they already do!" Mark chuckled. "They already had me doing stupid tasks like driving more laps around the circuit than anyone else, so if the car breaks down today, they're going to be dealing with the angriest Australian they've ever seen."

"What do you think your chances are for this race? You've already said that you're comfortable in both conditions, but with your teammate ahead of you, it'll be a difficult job to win your final Formula One race..." Martin smiled, thrusting the microphone back toward Mark.

"It'll always be difficult fighting Seb for the win, but it's exactly the same feeling as if I would be fighting Fernando or Jenson; they're all rivals at the end of the day. I'm here to win, not to come second fiddle to anyone." Mark chided. "I'd rather leave here today knowing that I deserved my podium through fair and exciting racing, rather than be gifted the win due to an engine or mechanical failure – the win would feel different if there was an issue involved." Mark stated honestly, glancing at the sister Red Bull car.

"Well Mark, good luck for the race. It's been a pleasure." Martin smiled, shaking his hand.

Mark reciprocated the action as the media coverage surrounding him began to increase before he physically had to decline anymore media invitations, needing to go through important information with Simon as the clouds continued to darken engulf the circuit in darkness. The media continued to swarm around them both, until Barbara stood by them both, politely stating that Mark needed those last few precious minutes to go over data from qualifying and where to catch Sebastian during the race.

Mark nodded in agreement, noting exactly where to attempt to overtake and what lap would be best, with their strategy already being decided after qualifying the previous day and Mark was determined to attempt to get that win; that was what they were all here for and the Australian could only focus on one thing now; beating his teammate to get the win that he had been craving since Malaysia; the one race which decided it all. Even if he had decided to stay in Formula One for the next season, he knew deep down that he would've severed the ties with Red Bull; the win that was taken away from him still too painful to comprehend.

"I'm ready." Mark glanced at Simon.

"Okay mate. Well, good luck." Simon pulled Mark into a meaningful and brief hug, tapping his back. "Go and bring the trophy home."

Mark nodded at his race engineer as he disappeared, allowing the Australian the perfect opportunity to focus on the objective at hand. His hazel eyes glanced up into the grey clouds, relinquishing the challenge ahead of him as he placed his helmet on and clambered into his car, grasping the steering wheel tightly as everyone ensured that he was comfortable for the last time in his Formula One career; he hated it, but he knew the attention would be on him today and that only increased the pressure already placed on him.

Breathing in deeply, he drank in the surroundings; the pit crews scrambling away from the grid as the cars roared to life; the sound of 22 cars deafening to the fans in the grandstand as the drivers left their grid boxes, all following one another around the circuit as Sebastian slowly ended the formation lap, lining up in his grid box, slowly and patiently waiting for the others to line up behind him. Mark slotted into his grid box immediately, his eyes narrowing on his teammate to his left, watching his every manoeuvre, determined to beat him and steal the win from him fairly.

The lights flashed red rapidly as Mark bogged down the start, being swamped by numerous cars and languishing in fifth. He groaned inside his helmet, cussing a few times as his concentration was temporarily caught off guard, instantly rueing the mistake as he began chasing down Hamilton instantly, the bit between his teeth as he noticed that the sister car of Sebastian's was still ahead of him. Mark followed Lewis' car during the first sector of the track, catching him immediately, patiently waiting for the Mercedes driver to make just one mistake. Noticing that Lewis had gone wide, Mark sensed the opportunity and stayed on the outside, giving the British driver just enough room, overtaking him on the outside, noticing the white rear wing ahead of him; Fernando's car.

Catching the Ferrari rapidly, Mark found himself temporarily stuck behind him, suffering from the dirty air that was flowing from the rear of the car. This was always going to be difficult to overtake Fernando; he knew Mark so well that he knew every trick in his book, relinquishing him powerless, yet, their trust on track was unparalleled; Mark would never fight against someone so ruthlessly as what he did with Fernando – he always had to push the Spaniard to the limit on every occasion that they fought on track. Approaching the last corner, they found themselves engulfed in white smoke billowing from Romain's car as Mark found himself focusing on the Ferrari, not wanting to make a stupid error and ruin both of their races. The cars were making their way through the first sector when Fernando made a manoeuvre on Rosberg, causing Mark another headache yet pride swelled within him, praying that his boyfriend could go and chase Sebastian down and help Mark without realising.

Mark dispatched of Nico's car easily, overtaking him on the start finish straight into turn one, attempting to catch the Spaniard again, wondering if Fernando would be willing to put up a huge fight in their last race fighting one another. He quickly caught the Ferrari as Fernando somehow pushed it to its limits once again, knowing that the car was nowhere near as good as the Red Bull that was stuck behind him. Their battle continued for a few laps, Mark attempting to overtake wherever he could and look somewhat threatening in the Spaniard's mirrors. Their track antics continued as they approached the thirteenth lap before Mark had finally got past, silently thanking Fernando for the gift as his aim was back on for the race win; steal the win from his teammate.

Mark continued to push hard, refusing to give up and nailed every lap, slowly reeling in the gap to Sebastian as the pit stop window approached.

"Pit this lap, pit this lap." Simon's voice echoed over the radio.

"Okay." Mark replied, pressing the radio button off quickly, nailing every piece of the circuit as he came into the pits.

He brought the car in perfectly, waiting and praying that the pit crew's efforts would go without a flaw, only to be hampered by an issue with a tyre. Mark's anger hit the roof; so annoyed that everything had messed up when he needed the pit stop to go smoothly. Leaving the pits, he grasped the steering wheel even tighter than normal, attempting to calm himself down.

"Sorry about that." Simon sighed. "You deserved better."

"The one time I needed a pit stop to be fucking perfect." Mark hissed.

The radio went silent as Simon didn't respond, allowing Mark to calm down and gather himself as he noticed the Ferrari in front of him again. The Australian couldn't help but groan inside his crash helmet, not wanting another gift from Fernando when it was the team's error for Mark being stuck behind the Italian car again. Shaking the negativity, he followed the dirty air of the Ferrari for a small while before pulling off another manoeuvre into turn one, hoping this would be the last time he would have to overtake the Spaniard for an error that he didn't commit.

Mark kept his cool, putting in the laps, slowly catching Sebastian as yellow flags were dropped around the circuit again. Mark was curious what had happened, waiting for information until he drove past the scene; Bottas' Williams with three wheels on the wagon.

"Yellow flags are out, be careful on the way around, Hamilton has a rear right puncture and is slow. Pit this lap."

"Pitting this lap."

Mark passed Lewis quickly; glad to see that he had stayed away from the racing line. Entering the pits, Mark noticed Sebastian's car still in the pit box, realisation dawning upon him that the German had a problem of some sort during the pit stop. He didn't dare celebrate yet, not when there was still plenty of laps to be done and always a chance to overtake one another on the track. As he watched the sister car shoot away from the pit box, he noticed Fernando in his mirrors, narrowly missing the pit crew. Not reacting to the action, Mark just patiently waited for his tyre change as he finally left the pit box, noticing the scarlet red machinery behind him closing in.

"What was Sebastian's problem?" Mark inquired.

"Problem with the front right tyre, we can still win this race."

Mark didn't bother replying, choosing to focus on the remainder of the race as he darted out of the pitlane quickly, pulling away immediately from the Ferrari. Not many laps were left and Mark sighed, checking the delta on his steering wheel told him everything he needed to know; the 10 second deficit was too much, he wouldn't win his final Formula One race and even though that upset him deep down, he was thankful that he could finish his career on a high and step down from the pinnacle of motorsport with another podium to his name. Crossing the line, relief flooded his system; he had brought the car home with no mechanical or engine failures.

During the slow down lap, Mark navigated his way through the first and second sector, picking up all of the debris possible before slowing down on purpose, messing with his HANS device, taking his helmet and balaclava off, hearing the scream of the engine in his ears and clearly seeing the fans waving eagerly at him; giving him the send-off they believed that he genuinely deserved. The emotions overwhelmed him as he watched them all, waving back at them all as he drove slowly, feeling the wind mess his hair up violently. The radio buzzed to life once again, sending shivers down Mark's spine.

"Nice job mate, absolutely brilliant. I know we made it pretty difficult, but it was a very good drive from you. Good race craft, good pace, nice job mate. Mixture one please, mixture one and use all the KERS if possible." Simon smiled as he gave the information to Mark.

"Fantastic career, it's been brilliant working with you. You can be proud of everything you've done, cause we certainly are. Well done." Christian added, the emotions of pride ebbing through him.

Mark pulled the car into the pitlane, happiness and elation radiating from his body, pushing the negative thoughts to the back of his mind as he was enveloped in a hug by Fernando.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispered soothingly. "I'm sorry is not the win."

"I got a podium, that'll do." Mark replied. "Thank you for the gift, too."

Fernando released Mark from his grasp and nodded, heading towards the scrutineering room, glancing over his shoulder briefly to see Mark hugging everyone from the team that he feasibly could before dashing towards scrutineering and checking his weight. He didn't stay long, choosing to make his way to the cool down room as quickly as what he could, the claps from the grid girls echoing around him, giving him a sense of achievement as he briefly recalled his success; 9 wins, 42 podiums, 13 pole positions and 19 fastest laps altogether. As he entered the room, he noted Sebastian celebrating his ninth win of the season with Christian and they celebrated together briefly, Mark not caring about what the German had to say to him and instead, turned his focus to Fernando, who grasped his hand tightly and congratulated him on the podium, shaking his hand as a small smile was painted on Mark's face. They talked briefly, mostly about the race, aiming to keep their private lives a secret for a while longer.

The drivers were all told to go to the podium and reap the rewards of their success. Fernando rushed out straight away, waving at the crowd and team, happiness ebbing through him as he patiently waited for Mark and Sebastian to appear before they could celebrate together before a private one could take place later in the day with Mark. Emerging moments later, Mark ran out on the podium, waving to everyone and soaking up the atmosphere, enjoying every second of it as he stood proudly in second place, the happiness rushing through him as he realised it was all over; he would no longer be a Formula One driver. Sebastian's name was called out as he headed towards the top step, the German and Austrian anthem bellowing loudly from the podium as the team celebrated more success and yet another one-two during the races.

The beautiful trophies were presented to everyone with the loudest cheer being given to Mark for his commitment to motorsport and to Red Bull in general; they may have had their highs and lows, but they still stuck together as a team until the end, even if it didn't feel like it in some circumstances. They all clutched their champagne tightly as they began their celebrations, Sebastian soaking Mark quickly before chasing after Christian, whilst Mark set after Fernando, soaking the Spaniard in champagne before falling on the slippery surface covered in alcohol, appearing seconds later smiling and laughing like an idiot at his own mistake. Sebastian and Fernando arrived, covering the Australian in champagne, dousing it over his face as Mark drank some and shook his head, attempting to get rid of the champagne that was beginning to sting his eyes, before Sebastian and Fernando drank some of theirs and passed it down to their retrospective teams, waiting for the interviews to take place by a Brazilian TV presenter. Christian appeared quick, an Australian flag in his hands as he passed it to Mark, holding it with pride as he wrapped the flag around his neck.

The podium celebrations flew by, with Mark stating how proud he was of his career, how thankful he was to everyone who had supported him in the early days which led him to have the chance to be a Formula One driver and prove just how talented he truly was. It was evident in the way that he talked that Mark truly appreciated every second of the time spent as a driver and the friends and rivals that he had made along the way; they had made his career worthwhile. The Championship may never have been his, but he still etched his name into the Grand Prix books and right now, that was enough for him. Walking away from the podium, Mark waved at the crowd for the final time as he slowly headed down the stairs and into the press pen, waiting to be interviewed.

Natalie Pinkham had a warm smile on her face as she waved at Mark, flipping through her small notebook filled with notes, eager to jump into the interview that she had been waiting for since the end of the race. Mark smiled at her, happy to have ended his career on a high and to finally feel liberated and not be hampered by such extreme weight limits anymore.

"Well Mark, it was only a second place, but it's clearly made you very happy. Congratulations on your final podium. What's been your career highlight?"

"I've had lots; my debut race in Australia and being allowed to go up on the podium with the flag. Germany 2009 too because that was my first win, but this feels special too. It's not a race win, but it's how I wanted my Formula One career to end."

"We've seen a lot of support for you this weekend, notably from all of the fans in the grandstand and from other drivers on the grid too. Whose support has meant the most to you?" Natalie inquired.

"Well," Mark debated. "The fans have been absolutely amazing, but I can safely say that the team's support has meant the world, and the people who have been there since the start and saw the potential in me; without their support, I wouldn't be here right now. Driver wise, I'd have to say Fernando and Jenson. I mean, they're my best friends here and both of them are incredible drivers who I rate highly. It'll be weird not seeing my mates on such a regular basis but I'm already excited for a new challenge with Porsche." Mark smiled.

"Thank you for the entertaining memories, Mark. Good luck for the future and hopefully we'll see you at a Grand Prix next year."

"Thanks Natalie, and to all of the fans out there who have supported me; thank you. This podium was for you!" Mark smiled. "Now it's time to celebrate with the team and enjoy my final hours as a Formula One driver."

The music boomed out of the energy station, the bass flowing through his body as he settled down on a stool, not in a celebratory mood. The copious amount of staff brush past him occasionally, never really stopping to have a chat; too busy celebrating Sebastian's fourth consecutive championship win, and he doesn't blame them, it's an incredible feature. He just wished that he could've had stopped Sebastian from claiming the title in 2010. His fingertips dance along the rim of the glass, his own eyes staring back at him through the clear alcoholic beverage. Mark sighs and clamps his neck in irritation, attempting to get into the party mood with no luck; he just wants to find Fernando and head back to a hotel room.

The silhouette of his team boss is perched on the stool next to him, gauging his attention immediately. Both remain silent, understanding that some words would never be said or actions explained in an appropriate manner. Instead, Christian orders them both a new drink and patiently waited for Mark to speak first, unsure what he'll hear from the honest man. Time ticks by slowly, the drink settling his nerves as Mark turns to Christian, noticing the anguish clear on his face as he deliberates what to say. After switching to whisky, Mark swirls the alcohol around, noticing the drink whirl rapidly as his eyes fix onto Christian's.

"Are we going to sit here all night and pretend that everything's fine?" Mark finally huffs.

"Mark, I..."

"Don't give me any bullshit, Christian. This party is to celebrate Sebastian's success and I'm fine with that." Mark's responds sharply.

"It's for you too. We wanted to say goodbye in style."

"You can say that mate, but I'm not in the partying vibe." Mark sighs and sips his whisky.

Time ticks by and Christian hasn't gauged a response from the Australian. Sighing, Mark clutches at the bar and attempts to leave the stool before a hand wraps around his wrist, warning him not to leave. Mark's eyes narrow in frustration at Christian, curiosity piqued as he attempts to figure out the Englishman's thoughts.

"Let me go."

"Mark, I don't want you to leave on bad terms." Christian pleads.

"You should have thought about that a long time ago mate. I'm too old for all of this now."

"Mark, you've still got it in you."

"Christian, I wasn't staying at Red Bull anyway. I was always going to leave after Malaysia."

Christian sighs and gives up, nods in defeat and sips his drink peacefully, accepting the welcome silence. Mark's eyes avert towards the numerous alcoholic spirits on the wall, wishing that Christian would leave his side within the next few minutes and just leave him in peace. His fingers drum against the bar in impatience, eyes getting darker as the alcohol continues to course through his body slowly.

"Mark, at least come and celebrate with everyone. We really want you to enjoy your last night with us." Christian begs, glancing into Mark's darkening orbs. "For the team?"

"Fine, give me five minutes and I'll be social. No bullshit Christian, I'm sick of all the lies. It's gone on for too long."

Christian nods his head quickly, shakes Mark's hand and heads toward a gaggle of Red Bull employees, enjoying the party atmosphere. Alone, Mark continues to sulk and sink another drink down his throat before another silhouette appears by his side. Anger begins to boil throughout Mark's body, preparing to tell them to fuck off before the accent catches him off guard.

"Mark?" The Spanish accent feels like silk to his ears.

"Fernando." Mark ducks his head in respect, quickly ordering them both another drink.

"Not celebrating?" Fernando inquired, clasping his glass tightly.

"Not really in the celebratory mood, mate."

"Is the last time you'll see these guys; should celebrate with them." Fernando smiled warmly, setting a slow-burning fire in the pit of Mark's stomach.

"Fer... I just can't stop thinking of the bullshit that happened."

Fernando's hand reached out to Mark's stubble, manipulating his chin, forcing him to look directly in his eyes and notices the prominent heartache there; preventing him from celebrating with his entire team. Stroking his chin softly, Fernando felt the pain ebb away softly as Mark gradually begins to hum in appreciation, glad that Fernando could read his emotions so easily.

"Is in the past. You had good times too Mark." Fernando smile wanes as Mark plasters a fake smile on his face. "Enjoy your night, por favor."

Hearing Fernando in his native tongue sends shivers down Mark's back and a smile spreads across his face, genuinely feeling happy for the first time since the podium. His hand reaches out to Fernando's hand and pulls him up from the seat, leading him towards the dance floor; the music gradually growing louder with every beat. Mark leads the way, dancing as close to Fernando as he physically can, solely focusing on the Ferrari driver. As an array of different songs play throughout the night, Mark and Fernando find themselves practically merged together; Fernando's jean clad thigh rubbing against Mark's half hard erection.

"How about we get out of here? We can celebrate on our own." Fernando's smirk told him everything he needed to know, his hands snaking around his hips, keeping Mark's body tight against his own.

"Yes, that's what I want." Mark ducks down, claiming Fernando's lips roughly before pulling away, noticing the shock on the Spaniard's face. "They can't say anything anymore." Mark nods towards the gaggle of Red Bull hierarchy enjoying their night.

"True." Fernando shrugs lazily. "Let's go."

"Just give me two minutes..." Mark sighs loudly.

"Why? You owe them nothing anymore Mark." Fernando glanced at him curiously.

"They at least deserve to know that I'm leaving Fer," Mark responded sadly, stroking his hand softly. "I'll meet you by the door in two minutes, okay?" He kissed his forehead, brushing the brunette hair upwards, messing it up rapidly as Fernando failed in noticing what his boyfriend was doing.

"Go and say goodbye!" Fernando warned him sternly, slapping his bum as Mark eventually followed the orders set by the Spaniard.

Mark slowly began to walk towards Christian, Adrian and Helmut, all immersed in a deep conversation before they noticed the Australian patiently waiting ahead of them. Christian gazed at him and understood that this was the end of his time with the Formula 1 team and embraced him in a warm and caring hug. Mark nuzzled into Christian's shoulder for a short period, forcing himself to always remember the good times, pushing the negative times to the back of his mind; this isn't what their final goodbye would be about. Mark wanted to leave on good terms with everyone and have a fresh start at Porsche next year.

"I'm sorry," Mark groaned. "For earlier."

"It's fine, Mark." Christian released him, shaking his hand with a warm smile on his face. "We'll miss you here."

"Goodbye, thank you for all of the memories." Mark smiled back before approaching Adrian.

"Thank you for giving me a race winning car, mate. I always said that you'd get Red Bull to the sharp edge of the field." Mark enveloped Adrian in a hug, patting his back reassuringly.

Glancing at Helmut behind Adrian, Mark sighed as he stretched his hand out awkwardly; a fake smile plastered on his face as Helmut gripped his hand tightly, shaking it vigorously for a few seconds before releasing his grip on the Australian.

"Thank you." Mark sighed, turning on his heel and heading back toward the door.

Mark's eyes fixated on Fernando's silhouette, fidgeting and clearly uncomfortable in their current surroundings. Mark had never seen Fernando look so nervous and out of his comfort zone, notably remembering how confident and arrogant he comes across to the general public. Their eyes meet and Mark hurried up, grasping Fernando's hand tightly as they leave the party together, Fernando slowly calming down and his barrier re-appearing, confidence and arrogance oozing from him as their hands untangled quickly, aware of what one photo would do to their reputations.

"Feeling better now?" Mark interrogated.

"I was fine."

"I know your body well enough to know that you weren't comfortable then." Mark sighed, cupping the nape of his neck.

"It was only for a second." Fernando's posture stiffened.

"Fer," Mark smirked, leading him down a dark alleyway that was dimly lit and cupping his cheek softly. "You don't need to lie to me; I know when you're lying."

"I know when you're lying too." Fernando huffed, closing the gap between them both; their lips brushing tentatively.

"Fer, today was different. I didn't want to be bombarded by everyone; if I covered up how I truly felt, it would've been a lot easier. Some people have been better to me than others; you out of everyone should know that." Mark sighed, placing his chin upon Fernando's brunette locks that were slowly tickling his neck.

"I wish you weren't leaving."

"I can't help that, mate." Mark chuckled. "You're not supposed to be upset, come on, let's go celebrate."

Fernando didn't speak, just allowed Mark to lead him away from the dimly lit alley, their hands laying limp once more, yet stayed closer to one another this time as they slowly made their way back to the hotel. They idly chatted between one another as they both flashed a smile at the receptionist at the desk before waiting for the elevator to appear. The doors pinged open quickly, with both men entering it straight away and pressing the number 3. The lift remained eerily silent as Fernando felt sick to the stomach, he still wished that Mark had signed that contract with Ferrari, he knew that the Italian giants were still interested in him, even Fernando pushed them to do everything that they possibly could until Mark broke the news to him that he wouldn't be back in Formula One racing the next season. Fernando struggled to understand originally, but decided not to force him into anything he felt uncomfortable doing; their relationship was stronger than that. Sensing the awkwardness between the pair, Mark's fingers interlaced with Fernando's, reassuringly rubbing delicate patterns against the palm of his hand.

"You alright, mate?"

"Si." Fernando murmured softly.

"You don't have to lie to me, you know." Mark sighed, squeezing his hand hard in reassurance. "You know that I'll always listen to you."

"I know." Fernando smiled. "It's what I love about you."

Mark feigned shock. "The only part you love about me is that?"

"No..." Fernando smirked. "I love lots about you."

"Do tell." Mark chuckled.

"I will when we're alone. I don't want anyone knowing what I love about you!" Fernando whispered, feeling a rush of adrenaline burst through him. "You'll love it," he ghosted over Mark's ear, noticing the Australian shudder under the brief contact.

Mark's smile reached his eyes, but inside his heart was breaking; Fernando would tell him everything that he truly adored about him, and he'd have to smile and fall more in love with the man to his right, before cruelly breaking both of their hearts after the words would slip from Mark's mouth; the mental image of Fernando broken already in his mind. He stiffened at the thought, hoping that the Spaniard hadn't noticed as he tightened his grip on Fernando's hand, too afraid to let go. Glancing into Fernando's sparkling eyes, Mark found himself going back to when they decided to go ahead with their relationship; the elation and happiness blatant in the air between them as they descended upon their journey together as a couple.

Fernando broke their hands apart, allowing Mark to dig around in his small pockets for the hotel key card. The quiet beep alerted them to the unlocked door and Mark shoved the key card back in his pocket, nerves threatening to make an appearance as his hands shook slightly. Mark's hazel eyes shone with uncertainty as he allowed Fernando to lead him into their hotel room, the Australian being backed up against the door immediately. Their eyes met as Fernando licked his lips, eager to be devoured by the love of his life. Mark groaned at the sight of Fernando's moist lips and grabbed his shirt, dragging their bodies together tightly, refusing to let him slip through his fingers.

"No." Fernando chastised him immediately. "Slow tonight, you need to know everything I love about you."

Mark's head thrust backwards against the door, already impatient and growing harder with Fernando's denim clad thigh against his throbbing half-hard erection. Fernando purred at the sight in front of him; Mark slowly attempting not to thrust against his leg, desperate for the friction that he craved as he latched his lips upon his neck, nipping and biting the spots that would send Mark wild with desire.

"This is torture." Mark hissed, rolling his hips against Fernando's thigh. "What happened to going slow?"

"I am." Fernando smirked. "I haven't even started telling you exactly what I love about you yet."

"Fer..." Mark groaned, his head hitting the door again.

"No, now you listen." Fernando winked at him cheekily.

Mark smiled, clamped his eyes shut and thought about the boring telemetry that he had to analyse over the weekend, desperate to stave off his erection becoming any harder. His eyes flickered open softly, readjusting to his surroundings, gasping at the intensity apparent in Fernando's chocolate orbs; the heat and passion evident in him, his fingertips stroking Mark's hand.

"The first thing I love about you? Is your personality; you don't care who you upset or infuriate. You always tell the truth." Fernando brought Mark's hand to his mouth, kissing it chastely before letting it drop back against his body.

"It's just common courtesy, mate." Mark shrugged his shoulders.

"No, no, is who you are." Fernando stated defiantly. "The second thing is what you're like in public with me."

"What do you mean?" Mark's eyebrows rose in confusion, curious as to what Fernando was insinuating.

"Do you never see replays? Whenever I try to leave when we're together, you always clasp at my waist or wrist; you try to keep me with you for as long as you can and I love it; so needy for me." Fernando kissed the shell of his ear, the whine emitting from Mark's lips gave the Spaniard a thrill.

"When your boyfriend is as hot as you, then it's a perfectly reasonable thing to do." Mark defended himself, realising there was a chink in his armour that he never knew about.

"Is an adrenaline rush; you're risking exposing us." Fernando smirked, grasping Mark's hand and leading him toward the centre of the room.

"I've never seen you complain about it in the past." Mark retorted.

"Why would I complain when I'm with you?" Fernando inquired.

"I'm a bastard, mate, let's not deny that." Mark sighed.

Fernando rolled his eyes, knowing that he wouldn't win the fight, choosing to ignore his comments, he continued with his plethora of reasons why he loved him, which only made Mark's heart swell more as he attempted to stay coherent and calm, yet was failing miserably.

"The third thing I love about you is your fashion sense." Fernando's smile was warm with an element of innocence.

"My fashion sense?" Mark looked at him in bewilderment.

"Si!" Fernando bellowed. "Do you not look in the mirrors when you wake up? The jeans following the curvature of your arse, it's glorious." Fernando's laugh was dirty, a small blush creeping on his face.

"So you've basically wanted me to walk around topless since you've known me?" Mark winked at him, chuckling along at Fernando's confession.

"Maybe..." Fernando's cheeks were burning at the truth, glancing down at the floor, fiddling with his fingers. "Your arse in jeans always looks spectacular."

Mark manipulated his chin, forcing Fernando to get lost in those hazel eyes that had captivated him for years; the eyes that led him to his soul, showing Mark exactly what he needed to know about the man in front of him; he may have a massive ego, but there was the acts of kindness, the loneliness that Mark had always been determined to stop from happening; the love that was prominent whenever they would wake up together in the mornings in a tangle of limbs, warmth being emitted to the body next to them as they would begin to slowly wake up with the sunlight breaking in from the window, often displaying just how beautiful they both looked at dawn as the light danced on their bodies.

"At least you're being honest." Mark smiled. "Never lie; it doesn't suit you."

"I'd never lie to you." Fernando stated, softly pushing Mark down onto the mattress. "You're too good for me to lie to. I couldn't lose you from a stupid lie."

Mark felt sick to the stomach, how could he answer that and lie to Fernando's face? He scratched his neck nervously, glancing into the Spaniard's brown orbs as Fernando straddled his waist, his fingertips dancing along his arms, a content sigh ringing out from him as he kissed Mark's temple softly.

"I love you so much." Fernando smiled.

"Apparently you love a lot of things about me, mate." Mark smirked, winked and ruffled Fernando's hair, grasping the ends that tickled the nape of his neck, pulling it immediately, hearing Fernando's moans grow louder.

"I do love lots about you, but the most important thing about you? The love you have for everyone. I love you so much, it physically hurts, Mark." Fernando placed his palms on Mark's chest, lingering over his heart, the thud giving him comfort as his eyes fixated upon the Australian's.

"I know the pain too well, Fer." Mark smiled. "Love is passion filled with anxiety; always wondering what could happen next, where life can take you and what will happen to us. Whatever happens, I want you to know that I will always love you and that will never change, no matter how much time passes us whether we're together or apart. You will always be my true love and that will stay the same for as long as we both live. You were the only person I felt comfortable around to be myself."

"Mark..." Fernando's tears trickled down his face rapidly, utterly amazed at how open Mark was being with him, yet, something felt weird; Mark was never normally like this with him.

"I love you so much Fernando Alonso Díaz." Mark whispered, bringing their foreheads together. "Always have and I always will."

Fernando's lips chastely connected with Mark's, eager to stay with him in this moment; the tentativeness, the slow languid moments that resulted in Fernando being laid on his back with Mark straddling his thighs; lust pooling in his groin. Mark's fingers tentatively reached for Fernando's buttoned shirt, slowly undoing them, teasing the Spaniard to the best of his ability. Mark's eyes locked on the open expanse of newly exposed skin, nipping and licking at the small bites that he was inflicting on Fernando; memorising every moan that escaped his lips, desperate to remember them for as long as they were apart. Fernando's hands drifted towards Mark's hands, but he swatted them away, determined to make this last as long as he could, needing to catalogue every moment, every twitch of his body and every moan that fell from his mouth and into the open air.

"Now who's teasing?" Fernando griped, his head resting against the plump pillows.

"I just want you to enjoy every second." Mark stated, winking cheekily at Fernando.

"Mark!" Fernando groaned as Mark continued to mark his body, occasionally clamping his teeth tighter on his torso.

"What? Mark chuckled; trailing his hands down Fernando's exposed skin, goosebumps rippling against the Spaniard's tanned body.

"This isn't fair!"

"Why?" Mark glanced at him, edging closer to Fernando, slowly crawling up his body; their lips inches apart.

"Just isn't!" Fernando gasped as Mark's fingertips slid down his body, fingertips dancing against his trial of hair on his stomach, before quickly fiddling with the denim material that sheathed his lower body.

"I thought you were the one who wanted to go slow?" Mark winked, claiming Fernando's mouth tentatively; the passion overwhelming both of them.

Fernando didn't have the opportunity to respond as Mark pulled away from the Spaniard's lips; a wicked grin etched on his face as his fingers made quick work of the opposing jeans, lifting himself from the man beneath him, watching Fernando struggle to shove his jeans away from his body. A loud, dirty chuckle left Mark's mouth, the concentration on Fernando's face was too much as his hands grasped the denim material, pushing it as far as he could, noticing the frustration evident in the chocolate orbs of his lover. The rustle of jeans hitting the floor behind his body alerted Mark that Fernando had finally rid them from the remainder of his legs.

Mark shifted briefly, still fully clothed, straddling Fernando's hips once again, hearing the Spaniard gasp loudly at the contact of his brief clad erection hitting the denim material that Mark hadn't shed yet. Fernando's hips bucked, a moan involuntarily torn from his mouth as he glanced at Mark, the smile on his face widening at the reaction that he had just heard. One hand rested by the Spaniard's bare leg, the other stroking his torso softly in a straight line, heading towards his inner thigh. Fernando stiffened at the contact immediately, a gargle of Spanish infiltrating the air; pleading for Mark to touch him and shed his own clothes.

"Por favor!" Fernando begged, itching to have Mark's hands all over his skin as quickly as possible.

"Soon." Mark promised, shifting his body up Fernando's body once again, stealing a chaste kiss.

Fernando's groans were ate up by Mark, feeling fingertips brush against the nape of his neck, crashing their lips together possessively; claiming Mark as his own. Grasping Mark's t-shirt, Fernando's fingers roughly pulled at the buttons, desperate to see Mark's body. Chuckling at Fernando's efforts, Mark raised his head from Fernando's, allowing him to slowly peel the t-shirt away from his body, loosely lying limp bunched in his arms. Mark shrugged the shirt from his arms, his head tipped back as Fernando began to stroke and feel around the expanse of body that he knew so well. Mark hummed in content, appreciating every touch that Fernando was placing on his body, cataloguing it for future references, determined to never forget this last moment with Fernando.

Fernando writhed under Mark, his attention towards the tented boxers that the Spaniard was still wearing. He moved from Fernando's hips, rapidly spreading his lover's legs further as his fingers traced his inner thigh; his eyes fixated upon the hazel orbs further up the bed; dilated, wide blown pupils with lust as his hips bucked forward, desperate to have contact with Mark exactly where he needed it. Giving in to temptation, Mark's thumb moved the waistband of Fernando's boxers, slowly slipping his right hand in and tugging at his erection, hearing the hisses erupting from Fernando's lips followed by pleas for more.

Leaving him wanting more, Mark's hand grasped the pre-cum leaked boxers and yanked them down violently, freeing Fernando's cock, eliciting a hiss from the man beneath him, slowly falling apart as every second passed by. Mark drunk in the sight in front of him; Fernando's hips bucking wildly in the air, unashamedly moaning as loud as he possibly could, the pleas gradually growing louder with every teasing touch. Leaning forward slowly, Mark swiped his tongue over the leaking slit, savouring the taste of Fernando as his hands pinned his hips to the bed, immediately stopping the Spaniard's hips from bucking into his mouth.

Mark blew the tip quickly, enjoying the power that he had over the quivering man. A smirk tugged at his lips as he raised his head, eyes meeting briefly as Fernando's skin felt too tight for his own body.

"Shouldn't be so greedy." Mark chuckled briefly.

Fernando couldn't answer, deciding on winding his hand towards Mark's dark hair, grasping the short strands and tugging it roughly; a whine ringing loudly through the air as Fernando attempted to dominant the situation and shuffled around the bed, desperate to show Mark some attention. Sensing Fernando's plan, Mark overpowered the Spaniard, grasping his hands from the back of his head and pinned them to the duvet. The dirty smile spread across his face as he enveloped Fernando's tip slowly, suckling his hard cock as Fernando's hands grasped the mattress tight behind him, his hand clenching it in a tight fist, shallowly thrusting further into Mark's warm mouth.

"Mark!" Fernando bellowed.

Pulling back, Fernando stared at his lips; smiling wide and eyes darkening with lust. Mark playfully slapped his flank, attempting to keep him calm under the moment, absorbing every feeling possible that he was inflicting upon Fernando.

"Enjoying this?" Mark winked.

"Want you naked," Fernando mewled, his fingertips delving into Mark's hair once again, dragging him up his body painfully.

"Demanding tonight, aren't we?" Mark chuckled, stealing a chaste kiss from Fernando, threading his fingers through his brunette hair softly. "I suppose I can get rid of my clothes."

"Get them off!" Fernando commanded, claiming Mark's mouth once again, his tongue swiping against his bottom lip.

Mark hummed in content, allowing Fernando to command the situation briefly, enjoying the brief spell of submission; his groans being swallowed up as Fernando's erection brushed against the denim material still covering Mark's frame. His hands wandered down his lover's physique, cupping his arse with all of his strength, rolling his hips against Mark.

"Okay, okay!" Mark ghosted against Fernando's lips, drawing away slowly.

His fingertips dealt with the buttons of his shirt rapidly, baring his toned torso to Fernando on the bed, languidly removing the offending item from his arms as it softly fell to the floor. Fernando licked his lips, moving toward the edge of the bed, needing to see it all up close. Mark toyed with his belt, loving the effect that all of this was having on Fernando who attempted to grasp the belt from his hands, only to have it swatted away.

"No Fernando." Mark chastised him, continuing to bat his hand away as his hands slowly fiddled with the belt buckle.

"Mark." Fernando grumbled softly, deliberately rolling the in the Australian's name.

"Now who's the tease?" Mark retorted, his hands still lingering on the belt.  
Fernando huffed in impatience, linking his fingers through the belt hole of Mark's jeans, forcing him closer to his body. One glance into his brunette eyes and he relented control of his belt buckle; getting lost in those eyes that had captivated him and would haunt him after this night had ended. Mark nodded at his boyfriend, giving him permission to do exactly what he had been craving as his fingers looped delicately over the belt buckle, making quick work of it and discarded it immediately, hearing it land on the white soft carpet with a dull thud. Fernando's smile grew, unbuttoning Mark's jeans instantly, his eyes blown further wide at the state of Mark's hardness, hidden by his tented briefs. Their hands interlocked slowly, gripping one another tight as Fernando's hair was placed against the nape of Mark's neck, crashing their lips together in a passionate frenzy.

Their tongues tangled viciously, both battling intensely against one another; the determination to win both evident in their personalities. Fernando chuckled against Mark's lips, his hands wandering further down his body, grasping his erection through his briefs tightly, causing Mark to moan loudly. A dirty smile erupted from Fernando's mouth, outlining Mark's cock, bringing it to full hardness as the Australian struggled to not thrash against his hand. He released Mark from his grip momentarily, slithering his hand beneath the fabric, rubbing his leaking slit, loving the reaction from Mark's lips.

"Fer!" Mark gasped, his forehead pressing against Fernando's.

"Love you," Fernando whispered, his hand's movement increasing against his cock.

"I need you." Mark groaned softly, nipping kisses into Fernando's neck.

"Take me." Fernando murmured, panting softly against Mark's lips. "I'm yours."

Mark pulled back, glancing down at his lover, looking utterly ravishing with his hair going in every direction possible. Fiddling around briefly, Mark's attention went to the bed side table, fishing around for the lube and condoms. Popping the bottle open, Mark drizzled his finger in lube, tapping his digit against Fernando's hole, loving the pleas emerging from his lover's mouth.

"I don't want to hurt you." Mark sighed.

"You won't." Fernando wriggled closer to Mark's body; the proximity intoxicating. "You can never hurt me."

Mark stiffened at those words, the words swirling around in his head, causing a storm of thoughts to infiltrate his mind, knowing just how this was going to end. He felt selfish; he hadn't told Fernando about his plan and yet here he was, pleasuring and pleasing Fernando for one last time, knowing just how much it would inevitably hurt him when Mark had to walk away from their relationship and say goodbye to all of their memories together before it became too brutal for him. Yet, he needed this; to categorise every moan and mewl that departed Fernando's mouth, every arch of his back, the way he panted and how his lips tasted of sweet alcohol that Mark would crave forever.

"Mark?" Fernando inquired softly, capturing Mark's attention once again.

Snapping out of his brief reverie, Mark smiled warmly as he softly kissed the man beneath him; his finger slowly breaching Fernando, noticing the Spaniard tense immediately.

"Fer..." Mark groaned. "Too tight."

"Sorry!" Fernando yelped as Mark attempted once again successfully, slowly plunging his finger in and out of his lover.

Fernando hissed in pain, the breach causing a slight sting as Mark kissed his forehead softly, trying to relax Fernando and continue pleasuring his boyfriend. Slowly, Fernando's body softened at the intrusion, mewling in pleasure as Mark's finger brushed against his prostate. Mark swallowed the moans greedily, his tongue meeting Fernando in a frenzy as he breached him with a second finger, listening to the groans of impatience and slight pain as Mark slowly stretched Fernando open, twisting his fingers and catching his prostate again.

"Mark!" Fernando yelped, his moans growing louder and louder with every touch to his prostate, slowly beginning to fuck himself on Mark's fingers inside his body, loving the feeling of having Mark so close to him. "Need you."

"Soon." Mark vowed, a warm smile on his face.

"Now!" Fernando demanded, rolling his hips against Mark's fingers.

"So impatient." Mark retorted, withdrawing his fingers slowly.

Fernando keened at the loss of contact, simply moaning and demanding for Mark to hurry up. Grasping the condoms, Mark sheathed his cock immediately and drizzled lube over his fingers once again, stroking himself to complete hardness as he grasped Fernando's leg with his free hand, placing it over his shoulder quickly, gazing into the Spaniard's brown, warm loving eyes that always managed to make his heart melt. Lining himself up, Mark gently entered Fernando, his eyes peeled on the man beneath him; panting loudly at the contact, causing Mark to groan at the tightness and heat surrounding him.

"Fuck, Fer..." Mark dropped his head down, claiming Fernando's mouth roughly, nipping at his lower lip.

Fernando jerked his hips upwards immediately, desperately craving the point of no return. His tanned arms stretched out, digging his nails into Mark's arms, forcing their lips apart and latching his teeth onto the Australian's neck, intending to cause as much superficial damage as possible. Mark gasped out loud, enjoying the attack from his boyfriend, yet, the guilt continued to wrack through him and he pulled back, glancing into Fernando's orbs, totally consumed by those eyes that were gently probing his, knowing that deep down something was wrong.

"Are you alright?" Fernando inquired.

"Perfect."

"Are not moving..." Fernando quipped, lifting his hips, attempting to bring Mark back into the moment.  
"Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong." Mark whispered, cupping Fernando's cheek and stroking it softly.

"I know when you're lying." Fernando moaned at the caress as Mark rolled his hips.

"Fer, I'm fine. I promise." Mark smiled, focusing on pleasuring the man beneath him once again.

"If you're –" Fernando gasped out loud as Mark hit his prostate, angling his hips at the perfect angle. "Mark!"

Mark didn't respond, just kept slamming his hips into Fernando, the sound of skin slapping skin growing louder in the room as their moans gradually increased. Fernando's head thrusted back against the pillows, his legs wrapping themselves around Mark's waist, drawing him in as tightly as possible as Mark's hands remained by Fernando's waist, giving him extra leverage to tease the Spaniard further. Circling his hips, Mark withdrew his cock from Fernando's pliant body before slowly thrusting back in, teasing Fernando with every ounce of his energy, dragging this out for as long as possible.

"Tease!" Fernando managed to spit out unamused.

"You love it, mate." Mark retorted, slowly hitting Fernando's prostate.

"Not when you're teasing me!" Fernando hissed, tightening his legs around Mark's body again, clawing back the intimacy that he always craved when he was near Mark.

"I love you so much." Mark murmured into the shell of his ear, shallowly moving his hips.

"Te amo." Fernando softly groaned, lifting his hips, determined to increase the pace of Mark's thrusts.

Mark's patience began to waver, knowing that he wouldn't last much longer if he continued to tease Fernando. Placing a delicate and soft kiss to his temple, Mark slammed his hips into Fernando, the moans bursting from his lips, not expecting Mark to suddenly increase the pace brutally. Fernando keened underneath Mark, shifting his hips to match Mark's intense pace, his orgasm slowly building, threatening to crash over him.

"Mark..." Fernando rasped, his fingers clutching at the duvet behind him, no longer grasping onto Mark's sweat covered body.

Mark understood what Fernando needed and grasped his leaking cock, massaging the head immediately, noticing his head thrash against the pillows in bliss as his hips jerked upwards involuntarily. Mark continued the brutal pace, hitting Fernando's prostate every single time as the Spaniard moaned beneath him, triggering Mark to stare into his eyes for once last time before he came; noticing how he forced his eyes shut, his tongue darting out at the edge of his lips. He looked delicious.

"Mark!" Fernando clasped his arms around Mark's neck, forcing their lips together as his cum painted his stomach white.

Mark lost momentum, thrusting into Fernando for a few more seconds before his orgasm blind-sided him, hearing Fernando gasp underneath him as Mark's hand was still on his cock, pumping him through his orgasm lazily. Mark groaned; his arms shaking violently as he struggled to maintain his strength in his upper arms, rolling away from Fernando's oversensitive body.

"I fucking love you." Mark cooed.

"I love you too." Fernando smiled sated. "You've said that a lot today."

"It's because it's true." Mark smirked, running his finger through the cum that was slowly sticking to Fernando's body, bringing it to his lips, enjoying the salty taste on his taste buds.

"Good." Fernando's lazily smile stayed on his face. "I can't imagine my life without you now."

Mark stiffened once again, although sated, those words cut him like a knife; this felt wrong. He had planned this all out; spend his last day as an F1 driver with Fernando and attempt to give him the best sex of his life for one final time before he had to break his heart into smithereens. Self-loathing erupted through Mark's body at what had just happened, he knew he had to set Fernando free because he loved him, but that didn't settle the nerves in his stomach when his boyfriend would realise just what was about to happen. Mark didn't feel prepared for the reaction that he would receive, he could see it in Fernando's eyes – he knew that something was wrong and that scared him; he could read Mark like a book and he knew that he had to leave soon before the inevitable begging would begin which would stop the Australian from leaving his life and allowing Fernando to move on to bigger and better things without him.

Tears slid down his face, refusing to glance into Fernando's eyes as he realised that his time with the Spaniard was rapidly running out; he needed to leave soon. Brushing the tears away from his eyes, he breathed in and out deeply, ensuring that he managed to maintain the cool and calm exterior that he put on for the cameras, but on the inside, he was a broken man and he would never forgive himself for the heartbreak that he was about to cause.

* * *

Fernando curled up in bed, sated from the intensity of the sex with Mark. Gingerly reaching out, the Spaniard's hands attempted to find his lover, yet he immediately failed. The rustle of clothes caught his attention, and although he's fatigued, he slowly manoeuvred to his left side, his heart slowly breaking at the sight in front of him; Mark was getting changed, tears trickling down his face as he clambered back into his jeans and zipped his fly up. There's a pang of sadness in the air as it dawns on Fernando; this isn't just the end of Mark's career, but the end of their relationship too and the tears won the inevitable battle as the lump in his throat felt more prominent.

Scrambling towards the edge of the bed, Fernando's eyes are brimming with tears, hiding his normally shining chocolate orbs. Mark bent down to his level, wiped away the tears roughly with his thumb, kissed his temple softly and ruffled his hair in a loving way; just as he normally would after they made love, but this was different. This couldn't happen ever again. Mark struggled to hold his composure, desperate to crawl onto the bed and wrap himself in one of Fernando's safe, warm embraces.

"That was the last time, wasn't it?" Fernando sniffled, his voice completely broken.

"I'm sorry Fer," Mark's tears shielded Fernando's beauty. "I'm so sorry."

"This doesn't have to be the end Mark." Fernando mewls, desperation creeping through his already broken voice. "We can make this work, I swear!"

"We can't Fernando. It'll be too much." Mark sighed, the tears trickling down his cheek once again, giving the game away.

"You're giving up on me." Fernando stated, the heartbreak evident in his voice.

"I'm not, Nando. I have to do this."

"No, you don't. You're choosing to leave me. Can't you stand me anymore?" Fernando hissed.

"Nando," Mark grasped his hand tightly. "I want nothing more than to stay with you and be with you for as long as both live, but all of this time apart would make our performances suffer on track and it'd kill us. It's easier to end it now rather than prolong the pain that we would experience."

"What pain? We would still see each other!" Fernando begged.

"When Fernando? You'd be training for the upcoming season with Ferrari and I'd be training for the races with Porsche. When could we possibly see each other?" Mark sighed, cupping his neck nervously.

"We could attend the races."

"We had a life away from racing, how could we do it when we're competing in different categories?"

"Fernando, it's over." Mark stated, his body physically aching as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

"But..." Fernando's mouth went dry, stumbling over any coherent thoughts in his mind. "YOU CAN'T!" The words erupted from his mouth, angry tears flowing down his cheeks; his heart felt like it had been torn from his chest.

"I'm sorry." Mark whispered.

"You're not or you'd be willing be fight for us." Fernando bawled, dropping his head into his hands.

Mark didn't say anything, just stood tall, despite everything that's ripping through his body and glanced down at the Spaniard in the bed, sobs wracking through his body as he struggles to come to terms that their relationship has finished so suddenly without a warning. The Australian physically ached, realising that he's destroyed one of the best, if not, the best thing that's ever happened to him and he knows he will have to live with that for the rest of his life. He had always struggled being away from Fernando and now he had made it a permanent fixture in their lives. Mark hated himself, but it needed to be done. Sighing, he scratches his neck, not wanting to be the reason for Fernando's dip in performance on the track, but it was always going to happen whether he stayed with Fernando or if their relationship ended. They don't function well without one another or their little quirks; they were in too deep.

Patting Fernando on the shoulder, the electricity in the air continued to crackle, just like it always had done. His hand falls limply by his side with Fernando's tear-stained face glancing into his own eyes; pleading with him not to leave. Grasping at the denim clad thigh in front of him, Fernando's hand pried onto his leg, refusing to let him leave, determined not lose the love of his life. Mark groaned, a wracked sob eventually emerging from his mouth as he forced himself to move Fernando's hands away from his leg. Bending down for the last time, their lips met in a brief kiss that's filled with a fiery passion that leaves them gasping for breath as Mark pulls away and steps away from the Spaniard.

"Te amo." Fernando whispers.

"I love you too." Mark responds. "Always."

Taking slow steps, Mark ensures that he remembers this moment for the rest of his life; the love, the passion, the heartbreak. Resting his hand on the doorframe, Fernando's sobs gradually grew louder, watching the love of his life walk away from him forever. Mark doesn't dare take one look at Fernando, not when he knows that his tear stained face will be embedded in his mind permanently. Ducking his head down, the guilt eats him up as he grips the doorknob tightly, glancing at his feet.

Twisting the doorknob securely in his grip, Mark sinks to the floor, bringing his legs towards his chest as the waterfall erupts from his eyes, his head resting against the door as he feels the physical ache in his chest; the pain too much to bear. Mark sits there for five more minutes, the sound of Fernando sobbing ringing in his ears as he stands up, wiping the tears from his eyes and slowly strolls towards his hotel room, but not before he takes one final glance at the Spaniard's hotel room, knowing that he's just left him in the worst place possible. He doesn't bother changing, just glances in the mirror and makes himself look more presentable before rushing around the room, flinging everything into his suitcase, desperate to leave the hotel and get on a plane as soon as he possibly can.

Fernando's eyes gaze at the door, feeling fatigued from the sobs that had wracked through his body. He couldn't believe what had happened. Mark had been there throughout it all, and now it was all over. Fernando clutched the duvet, wrapping himself securely in there before nestling in the pillows provided, hoping to keep Mark's natural aroma around him for as long as possible. Rubbing his eyes together, he rocks back and forth gently, completely broken and alone. His lover and best friend had left him forever and he has no way of consoling himself. A million thoughts zoomed around in his head; ideas of how their relationship could've worked, why Mark decided to end it all now and if Fernando could actually function without the Australian on a permanent basis. The thoughts swirl around his head and cause the ache in his chest to grow, the emptiness and loneliness occupying the spot where Mark had once and will always claim, even if he had walked away.

The tears continued to trickle slowly down his face as it all slowly begins to sink in. Fernando's all alone in the huge hotel room and he has no one to save him. The one person who can save him is the reason why he's all alone with no chance of a recovery.


End file.
